[fic post] Questions
Title: Questions
Rating: G
Genre: Humor
Pairings or Characters: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel
Warnings: wing!kink
Word Count: 764
Summary: "The question is," Dean continues, "why do you have them? When did you start banging angels? I thought demons were more your thing."
Author Notes: Again inspired by rivetingtv's gif and a sequel-ish thing to Appendages. I guess this is a winged!Winchester 'verse, so maybe there will be more, maybe not. *_* I think I've got a genuine wing!kink now, though. Next step is the actual wing!porn.
Questions
"Stop staring," Sam huffs, like he's trying on a prom dress and embarrassed that Dean's caught him.
Dean almost tells him as much, but bites his tongue and says instead, "I'm trying. They're like a peacock's. Do that Wahlberg impression you do when you're drunk."
"NO!" Sam cries, sounding scandalized. Dean laughs and goes back to eying Sam's new feathers, his own rustling slowly behind him, while Sam slowly touches the joint of his wing and flinches away when it moves underneath him.
"Weird, isn't it?"
"Dude, what even are these?"
"They're our grace. Like an angel's."
"And why do we have them? We aren't angels."
"Well, I'm the intended vessel for Michael and I've been having sex with Cas."
Sam makes a face and his wings puff out, flustered and embarrassed that Dean's being open about his relationship with Cas again. He's told Dean over and over how happy and proud he is that he's finally gotten over his issues and let himself be touched by his angel, but whenever Dean mentions the sex, Sam immediately gets uncomfortable and looks like he'd prefer a play date with Lucifer than to hear Dean keep talking.
"The question is," Dean continues, "why do you have them? When did you start banging angels? I thought demons were more your thing."
Sam eyes him angrily and turns a light pink--whether that's at the demon jab or the implication that he's boning his own angel, Dean's not sure yet-- but turns around with a wide flap of his wings and goes back to gawking at his new dark purplish appendages in the mirror. He turns to the left to get a view of his side, and his wings spread out slightly, giving him a better view of his feathers.
"Why are yours white and mine dark?"
"Vessel of Satan, remember?"
Sam twitches and clenches his jaw, his wings flapping out a bit in his frustration, proving to Dean that Sam can now bitchface with his face and his grace, and that is doubly hilarious.
"But seriously, who is it?"
"Who's what?" Sam grumbles, turning to the right this time, like he's practicing modeling or something.
"The one who gave you grace. Being a vessel for one of the big shots apparently means we get our own grace if we bang an angel enough times, which means someone has been doing a little cloud seeding down here on Earth. With you. So who is it?"
Dean's not going to drop it, not this time. He keeps telling himself that it's because he's just worried about Sam dicking around with one of the dicks from upstairs, but he knows he's only as curious as he is because he's afraid Cas might be-- But Cas wouldn't, he knows that. He just needs to make sure, that's all. He feels like a clingy girlfriend or something, and Dean's wings twitch in agitation at the thought of it, and he hopes Sam is still too busy checking himself out in the mirror to have noticed.
Sam turns away from the mirror with a sigh and runs a hand through his hair, his wings fluttering behind him as he readies himself to answer.
"It was Gabriel, alright."
"Gabriel? Isn't he dead?"
"Yeah, he was. But Cas has been dead, too."
"Yeah, but Cas is--"
"Special?" Sam finishes for him, and Dean glares as Sam laughs. Dean's white feathers bristle and slide against the metal of his chair while Sam's bounce lightly against his back.
"So, has Gabe, y'know?"
"Has he what?" Sam asks, sounding wary. He probably thinks Dean's going to ask about the sex, but Dean is with Sam on the whole hearing-your-brother-talk-about-sex thing being disturbing and unnecessary, and that's not what Dean wants to know about.
"Has he done the angel marriage thing with you?"
He can't believe he just called it that, but he doesn't really know what it was, let alone what it's actually called. He hadn't actually told Sam about it in-depth yet, other than some light teasing about his new angel husband.
"The what?"
Dean thinks back to Cas's black wings sliding up against his own, pulsing some of his grace into him, melding them together, and the beautiful not-quite-pain of it. His wings fly outward and knock nearly everything off the table behind him, and Sam raises his eyebrows and gives him a look.
"Did you just get a wing boner thinking about Cas?"
"No," Dean blurts, but his wings are still flapping wildly as he tries to reign them back in, giving him away.
Rating: G
Genre: Humor
Pairings or Characters: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Gabriel
Warnings: wing!kink
Word Count: 764
Summary: "The question is," Dean continues, "why do you have them? When did you start banging angels? I thought demons were more your thing."
Author Notes: Again inspired by rivetingtv's gif and a sequel-ish thing to Appendages. I guess this is a winged!Winchester 'verse, so maybe there will be more, maybe not. *_* I think I've got a genuine wing!kink now, though. Next step is the actual wing!porn.
Questions
"Stop staring," Sam huffs, like he's trying on a prom dress and embarrassed that Dean's caught him.
Dean almost tells him as much, but bites his tongue and says instead, "I'm trying. They're like a peacock's. Do that Wahlberg impression you do when you're drunk."
"NO!" Sam cries, sounding scandalized. Dean laughs and goes back to eying Sam's new feathers, his own rustling slowly behind him, while Sam slowly touches the joint of his wing and flinches away when it moves underneath him.
"Weird, isn't it?"
"Dude, what even are these?"
"They're our grace. Like an angel's."
"And why do we have them? We aren't angels."
"Well, I'm the intended vessel for Michael and I've been having sex with Cas."
Sam makes a face and his wings puff out, flustered and embarrassed that Dean's being open about his relationship with Cas again. He's told Dean over and over how happy and proud he is that he's finally gotten over his issues and let himself be touched by his angel, but whenever Dean mentions the sex, Sam immediately gets uncomfortable and looks like he'd prefer a play date with Lucifer than to hear Dean keep talking.
"The question is," Dean continues, "why do you have them? When did you start banging angels? I thought demons were more your thing."
Sam eyes him angrily and turns a light pink--whether that's at the demon jab or the implication that he's boning his own angel, Dean's not sure yet-- but turns around with a wide flap of his wings and goes back to gawking at his new dark purplish appendages in the mirror. He turns to the left to get a view of his side, and his wings spread out slightly, giving him a better view of his feathers.
"Why are yours white and mine dark?"
"Vessel of Satan, remember?"
Sam twitches and clenches his jaw, his wings flapping out a bit in his frustration, proving to Dean that Sam can now bitchface with his face and his grace, and that is doubly hilarious.
"But seriously, who is it?"
"Who's what?" Sam grumbles, turning to the right this time, like he's practicing modeling or something.
"The one who gave you grace. Being a vessel for one of the big shots apparently means we get our own grace if we bang an angel enough times, which means someone has been doing a little cloud seeding down here on Earth. With you. So who is it?"
Dean's not going to drop it, not this time. He keeps telling himself that it's because he's just worried about Sam dicking around with one of the dicks from upstairs, but he knows he's only as curious as he is because he's afraid Cas might be-- But Cas wouldn't, he knows that. He just needs to make sure, that's all. He feels like a clingy girlfriend or something, and Dean's wings twitch in agitation at the thought of it, and he hopes Sam is still too busy checking himself out in the mirror to have noticed.
Sam turns away from the mirror with a sigh and runs a hand through his hair, his wings fluttering behind him as he readies himself to answer.
"It was Gabriel, alright."
"Gabriel? Isn't he dead?"
"Yeah, he was. But Cas has been dead, too."
"Yeah, but Cas is--"
"Special?" Sam finishes for him, and Dean glares as Sam laughs. Dean's white feathers bristle and slide against the metal of his chair while Sam's bounce lightly against his back.
"So, has Gabe, y'know?"
"Has he what?" Sam asks, sounding wary. He probably thinks Dean's going to ask about the sex, but Dean is with Sam on the whole hearing-your-brother-talk-about-sex thing being disturbing and unnecessary, and that's not what Dean wants to know about.
"Has he done the angel marriage thing with you?"
He can't believe he just called it that, but he doesn't really know what it was, let alone what it's actually called. He hadn't actually told Sam about it in-depth yet, other than some light teasing about his new angel husband.
"The what?"
Dean thinks back to Cas's black wings sliding up against his own, pulsing some of his grace into him, melding them together, and the beautiful not-quite-pain of it. His wings fly outward and knock nearly everything off the table behind him, and Sam raises his eyebrows and gives him a look.
"Did you just get a wing boner thinking about Cas?"
"No," Dean blurts, but his wings are still flapping wildly as he tries to reign them back in, giving him away.